I woke up—again—with an old song lyric in my head, and this time, the more I thought about the words, the more annoyed I got. The song, I see, is by Burt Bacharach and Hal David—a very productive and popular team in their day—and the performers were The Carpenters. (Link to song on YouTube.)
It was released on May 15, 1970–a date that makes me tremble because it was only eleven days earlier that the Ohio National Guard opened fire on students at Kent State University, killing four of them. I’ve written here before about May 4 (you can Google it), so I’ll not say more—other than to note that Joyce was on campus that day, at the library thank goodness.
I was teaching at the old Aurora Middle School (102 E. Garfield Rd.; Aurora, Ohio) in May 1970, my fourth year of teaching. Joyce and I had been married only months before—December 20, 1969. Both of us were working on grad degrees at Kent State. She was full-time; I, part-time.
Anyway, I remember this song very well—I remember it was on the radio all the time. It reached #1 on the charts, and was #2 for the entire year. Not bad.
Anyway, I have no idea why some of the lyrics sneaked into my head last night, but part of it really annoyed me.
Sure, the “I” in the song is so in love with this guy that the analogies flow from her like a new Niagara. Birds show up when he does (what kind? Cooing doves? Hungry buzzards?); stars fall out of the sky (look out!). Okay—this is just the usual sort of daffy hyperbole that lovers habitually employ.
But it’s the next verse that bothered me—the one about angels getting together “to create a dream come true.” And all that moon dust and starlight (apparently not all stars fell from the sky).
This morning, in the dark, the whole idea of angels deciding to create someone really special—on the day of birth!—just angered me. I was thinking: If angels can do that, why don’t they do it all the time? Why do they let the rest of us arrive on earth with all sorts of problems? It seemed heinous to me. Cruel beyond belief.
Yeah, yeah, I know: It’s just a song, a song in the voice of a dazzled lover. It’s not the “truth.”
And, of course, I wondered how long that moon dust and starlight lingered before the guy got gout or something—or ate too many Twinkies, got overweight, and dropped dead, the moon dust flying up into the air when he hit the ground.
The more I read this over, the more it sounds like some Bitter Old Man who wishes the angels had gotten together on November 11, 1944!
Close to You
Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time you are near?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Why do stars fall down from the sky
Every time you walk by?
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
On the day that you were born the angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue
That is why all the girls in town
Follow you all around
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
On the day that you were born the angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold and starlight in your eyes of blue
That is why all the girls in town
Follow you all around
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Just like me, they long to be
Close to you
Wa, close to you
Wa, close to you
Ha, close to you
La, close to you
Songwriters: Hal David / Burt F. Bacharach
(They Long to Be) Close to You lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc, Downtown Music Publishing, BMG Rights Management US, LLC
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